STAY WITH ME
by fukuji mihoko
Summary: Meiko waits in the plaza on Christmas Eve for her beloved, knowing they will never arrive.


**STAY WITH ME**

* * *

The night air was cool and crisp.

Meiko exhaled, her breath hanging in the air like cobwebs.

The Christmas lights stung up about the plaza twinkled. They should have been cheery, suitably festive, but they seemed unnecessarily gaudy to Meiko.

She pressed her thighs together, shifting against the bench.

Cold.

Though she was wearing thick tights, 100% wool and completely opaque, the icy chill of the bench bit through the fabric and coursed through her veins.

It felt like her blood vessels themselves had turned into ice.

Her eyelashes quivered. So did her lips.

If she stayed here for too long they were going to turn blue.

That was something Meiko's mother had always told her. She scorned it as silly superstition… but she had been waiting in the plaza for so very long she was half-tempted to believe it.

She swallowed, feeling her throat convulse against the woollen knot of her scarf.

There were numerous people like Meiko herself dotted about the plaza; bundled up in coats, scarves, and gloves to combat the icy chill.

They were waiting, too, for their partners.

Girlfriends and boyfriends.

Lovers.

But Meiko knew the person she was waiting for would not come for her.

This was not a fairy story and there would be no white horse, no bouquet of roses, no declarations of love.

There was only an envelope she held in her hand, crumpled at the corners, that contained a letter she had read countless times.

 _I miss you, darling. Think of me over Christmas._

He would not come for her because he could not. He was working in America and she was in Japan.

It was just one of those things.

Their relationship had progressed in this way – airmail kisses, conversations over Skype, instant messages filled with 'I love you's – for six months now, ever since he had moved.

He had moved and she was…

She was lonely.

She didn't say it often because she didn't want to make him worry about her – she wasn't selfish, and though she had a fondness for fine fashion she refused to be high maintenance – but she really did miss him.

Especially on days like this.

Christmas Eve.

She exhaled again, releasing another icy breath into the air.

The crowds about the plaza were beginning to thin now.

Like loose socks on laundry day, the stragglers – waiting with hopeful expressions, checking their watches and phones, tapping their feet – had finally paired off with their other halves.

They were starting to walk away.

Meiko didn't know how long she had been waiting, but her thighs were numb with cold.

Her fingers trembled, crushing the letter a little closer against her chest.

Maybe she shouldn't have worn a skirt in this weather, but the cream colour went so well with her new coat.

Her outfit was perfectly coordinated, as per usual – right down to the gloss on her lips and the tastefully nude polish on her fingernails.

She had laboured over her appearance before the full-length mirror in her small bedroom before she left for the plaza, though she didn't know why.

It wasn't like he would be there to see her.

But she still cared.

She always cared, no matter how much distance was between them.

Maybe it was symbolic.

Just like the cardboard carton that sat beside on her bench from _La Angelique_.

It was his favourite bakery, and they used to go there together to buy choux buns or Mont Blancs.

Once, she got a spot of cream on the tip of her nose, and he licked it off when nobody was looking. She was so embarrassed by the sudden close contact – it wasn't very Japanese – her cheeks burned bright red, and he laughed.

He was always like that. Joking around. Smiling.

He had a nice smile.

If he had seen the Christmas cake Meiko had bought for him from _La Angelique_ – sponge, with white icing piped about the top and gem-like fruits fringing it in a neat circle – he would have smiled.

She was sure of it.

But he wasn't here to compliment her new coat, or ruffle the top of her head, or smile with unabashed, childlike delight at the cake.

But he had said he missed her.

He missed her, and he was thinking of her… and, even if he wasn't physically with her, wasn't that enough?

Meiko was the only person left in the plaza. The other couples had long gone.

The illuminations glittered around her. The large star at the apex of the fake tree twinkled.

Five minutes until midnight.

The bright lights would be turned off then, and Meiko would be plunged into darkness.

But how could she exist in darkness – true, dark despair – when she had his letter?

She had the letter, and she knew he missed her. She was thinking of him, and he was thinking of her – even if they were separated by time and geography.

He missed her… and she would see him again.

Next year they would look at these Christmas lights together – and maybe it was a bit too childish for a pair of adults, but he had always been easily amused, and she liked humouring him.

Or maybe he was humouring her.

He always said she was too serious.

Funny, coming from a doctor.

Meiko smiled softly to herself – a secret little smile nobody else could see – and slid the crumpled airmail envelope, read dozens upon dozens of times, into her coat pocket.

Her fingers found the handle of her cake carton and she rose to her feet, brushing down her beige skirt with her free hand.

The wind caught in her hair, making it flutter about her jawline.

The coldness had made apples bloom against her cheeks, flushing her skin with life.

He wasn't here right now, but who knew what the future held?

He wasn't here in person, but his letter gave her all the hope she needed.

Hope that he would stay with her – no matter what.

* * *

 **a/n:** Quick writing practice inbetween original projects so I don't forget how to do it.  
Based on shu-t's song 'Stay With Me', because I kinda like it.


End file.
